Last Year
by Marcus Reyner
Summary: A young man will find his last year at Hogwarts could change his life. Rated T for language, to be safe. Book 4's universe. Trying to keep the canon characters as out of it as much as I can. Reviews and suggestions HIGHLY appreciated.
1. Last Train Ride

As I stepped on to the train to Hogwarts, for the last trip there, I wondered why I was going. I didn't particularly like the place, I didn't have that many friends, even after 6 years, and most importantly, I didn't like using magic. It felt like cheating. Plus, I wasn't that good at it. Well, Snape's potions class. I did well in that. But that wasn't so much magic as mixing things.

I guess it's because of my parents. They had both been big, important students there, as well as their parents. Here I was, barely passing. Oh, well. Free room and board, at least for one more year.

I went to my seat on the train. Maybe this year would be different. Maybe I could actually do something new this year. Leave a mark.

As I sat down, a girl came into the room. She was around my age. Quite attractive. I had probably seen her before, her lack of marvel giving away the fact that she couldn't be a first-year. She came over to me.

"Gareth? Is that you?" She asked. That was my name. She knows me, somehow.

"Do I know you, miss?" I asked.

"It's me, Gareth. Anne Emery. We went to last year's big dance together." Shit. That's right. I can't believe I forgot that.

"I'm sorry, Anne. I have terrible memory. I didn't mean any offense."

"I must have really left an impression." She said, rolling her eyes. "Anyways, mind if I sit here?"

"Of course not. Please do." I replied. She sat down right across from me, and pulled out a notebook. There were cutesy little drawings all over it. She opened it, and started drawing in it.

"You draw much?" I asked.

"Yes." She replied, without even looking up.

"Mind if I have a look?" I asked.

She looked up this time.

"Of course not. Please do." She said, handing me the notebook. I flipped through it. Her drawings were pretty good. Lots of birds.

"These are pretty good." I told her. She smiled.

"Thank you." she said. She had really pretty eyes. Blue. She was already wearing her school uniform, her Gryffindor patch blazing proudly. Same house as me.

That reminded me. I hadn't changed yet. I was still wearing my casual clothes. McGonagal would have my head if I showed up without my uniform again. She had already lectured me three years in a row about "Setting an example for the younger ones".

"Excuse me, Anne. Would you mind stepping out while I change into my uniform?" I asked.

"Sure thing, Gareth." She replied, cheerily.

After I changed, I let her back in.

"You look different from last year, Gareth. Taller, more in-shape. Have you been working out much?" she asked.

"A little." I replied. I neglected to tell her that it was because my parents had forced me to do so.

"You look good." She said.

"Thanks. You look good, too." I replied.

"Thank you." She said, blushing a little. Just barely.

We both sat down again. It was quiet for a while.

"So, last year." She said. "I'm going to miss Hogwarts."

"Yeah... You got any plans for life after school?" I asked.

"Well, I'm planning to become a teacher. Not at Hogwarts, though. Just a regular teacher." She replied. "You?"

"No plans." I said.

"None at all? You have no idea what you want to do?" she asked, confused.

"I kind of want to write." I replied.

She smiled at that.

"Well, that's pretty interesting. Do you have much experience writing?" She asked.

"Not a lot. I just write little stories and things like that." I replied.

The train went through a tunnel. The lights in the room flickered to life.

As the train exited the tunnel, the lights died again. I looked out the window. The countryside was verdant and beautiful, as it had been last year. And the year before that. It hadn't changed a bit, and it never would, hopefully. The noise the train was making was comfortingly consistant, almost lulling. My eyes were getting heavy. I needed a nap. I hadn't slept well last night.

"We'll be there soon." Anne said.


	2. Celebrities are people, too

As we got to the school, I noticed a few people talking about a dance at Hogsmeade in a week. Supposedly it was to help us seventh-years get used to the idea of not going to Hogwarts anymore.

I made my way through the crowd over to Anne.

"Hey, Anne."

She turned to look at me.

"Yes, Gareth?" She asked.

"Seems there's a dance in a week. Would you mind accompanying me?"

"Sure thing, Gareth! Just make sure you don't forget me this time." She replied, smiling. She walked away, heading to the Great Hall.

As I stood there, staring a bit, I'll admit it; a young lad bumped into me.

"Hey, kid, watch where you're going, would you?" I exclaimed.

As the lad turned to apologize, I realized who he was.

"Harry Potter! Holy shite! Sorry, mate." I apologized.

"No, sir, I'm sorry." He said.

"Can I shake your hand, man?" I asked.

He offered his hand out. I took it.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Name's Gareth Jones. Honour to meet you, sir."

"Don't call me sir, I'm only year 4."

"Sorry, thought it was standard practise when meeting celebrities."

His friends started to call him over.

"See you some other time, Gareth!" He said.

"You too, Potter!"

Nice kid. How we had been in the same house for 4 years and never met, I couldn't explain.

As we filed into the Great Hall, McGonagal stopped me.

"Mister Jones, it's so nice to see you in your uniform." she said, smirking.

"Did it just for you, ma'am" I replied.

"Well then, carry on." she sent me on my way.

I shuffled over to my seat at the Gryffindor table, it had been my place for 4 years. I had marked it. I sat next to my friend James. I considered him the leader of my small group of friends.

Mary sat next to me, and Richard sat on James's other side.

"So, Garr, how was your summer?" Mary asked me, her piercing blue eyes staring right through me. Mary had a knack for spotting lies (Not that we lied much), and we always joked it had something to do with her eyes. It was probably true.

"It was okay. Not much happened. How was yours?" I countered.

"It was great. I hooked up with Jonathan Cook, and we're officially together." She replied, glowing with happiness.

"Johnny Cook? Really? Wow. Never would have guessed that one." James cut in.

"Oh, he's a sweetie. He says he's been trying to get in shape, because he wants to join the Quidditch team." Mary said.

"Chef Johnny? Quidditch? No way!" Richard exclaimed. Johnny was one of those people whose names matched their personalities. He was a sixth-year in Gryffindor, and an excellent cook. He was also slightly overweight.

"Oh, you should see him now. He's over near the door." Mary said. We looked. Johnny was in shape, amazingly. We barely recognized him. Cut as hell. He waved at Mary.

Mary smiled and waved back.

"Students! A new year is upon us!" Dumbledore shouted, his voice echoing through the hall, amplified by his usual spell.

As he spoke, I looked over to Anne. She was whispering with her friends. She noticed me and waved. I smiled and waved back.

"Finally got a bird, Garr?" James sneered. He whistled quietly. "She's a pretty thing. You hook up with her yet?"

"No." I replied.

"Isn't that the girl you took to the dance last year? Anne Emery, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, that's her."

"Boy, she grew up. She was a bit of a mouse last year, now look at her." He whispered.

"I shall, thank you." I replied.

Dumbledore's speech ended with a large fanfare. Lots of applause. I don't applaud for much, though. Not that his speech wasn't inspiring. It always was.

After dinner, I started to head to my dorm room. Snape stopped me on my way out of the Great Hall.

"Mister Jones. I wasn't sure if I should expect you again this year. But since you ARE here, I expect you are taking my potions class again?"

"Of course, sir. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

He smirked.

"Maybe this year you can volunteer a little more. It's a shame you keep to yourself, you appear to have quite a bit of knowledge on the subject. It's not often a student applies themselves to potions class as much as I see you apply yourself." He sighed. "It just saddens me that you were sorted as a Gryffindor. I see so much potential."

"Thank you, sir. If you'll excuse me, I'm heading to bed." I replied.

"Right. Carry on." He stepped aside.

I headed to my room, and laid in bed.

I couldn't sleep. Sure, there were potions to help aid sleep, but I hated using them. They were too convenient, too easy. Plus, they tasted like shite.

After what must have been hours, I finally fell asleep.


	3. Snape doesn't afraid of anything

A week passed. The dance was imminent. Wednesday came, the day of the dance.

Potions class. I was mixing a truth serum. But mostly, I was staring at Anne. She had let her long blond hair down today, rather than wear it in a bun as she had most of last year.

Snape came over and dropped a book in front of me.

"Get your head out of the clouds, Mister Jones." He said.

"Yes sir." I replied, picking up the book and handing it back to him. "Here you go, sir."

He took it from me.

"A point from Gryffindor."

"Yes sir."

"Now, how is the potion coming along?"

"Pretty well, it looks. I found that adding a bit of aspartame makes a little bit more effective, makes the ingestor relax more. Taste goes quite a way in relaxation."

"Really?" Snape asked, quizzically. "CLASS!" He shouted.

"Mister Jones here has apparently discovered a more effective way to make a truth serum. He has contributed to this class in a way I have never in my years seen a student contribute before" He said, staring at Hermoine Granger, smirking.

"Add a tablespoon of aspartame to your recipe. 15 points to Gryffindor, as well." He finished.

Hermoine glared at me. As did the Slytherins.

After class, Hermoine stormed over to me.

"That was cocky, Jones. Trying to be Snape's pet?" she growled.

"You mean like you tried first year with EVERY teacher, Granger? Chill out, okay? Jeez."

Harry made his way over, too. Ron followed him.

"That was pretty cool, Gareth." Harry said. "Never seen Snape compliment a Gryffindor. Not that freely, at least."

"Yeah, Snape's a pretty cool guy, honestly." I replied.

The trio stared at me like I had said I was a servant of the Dark Lord.

"What?" "You've got to be joking!" and "No way!" Were the replies.

"You guys don't get it, do you? Snape's here to teach us. It's like that one film, Full Metal Jacket, you know? That drill sergeant. Snape teaches us by making us hate him. The more we hate him, the more we learn, trying to show him up. It's quite ingenious, actually."

The three of them stared at me warily.

"I guess that makes sense..." Hermoine started.

"Never seen that film." Ron interrupted.

"Oh, it's a great film." I told him. "I love films. Especially from a technical standpoint. Everyone says muggles can't do magic, but Hollywood kind of disproves that, doesn't it?"

"But that's not real magic" Hermoine pouted.

"Oh, I'd say that their magic involves quite a bit more brainpower and talent than ours, Granger. We have imbued talent, they have to work incredibly hard to achieve what we could do easily. It's very impressive stuff."

Anne walked over to us.

"What are you lot talking about?" she asked.

"Film. And how muggles have their own form of magic." I replied.

"Gareth, do you mind if I talk to you in private?" she asked, eyeing the others.

"Sure thing." I turned to the others. "See you guys later"

They left, heading to their next class.

"So, finally meeting the legendary Harry Potter?" she said, watching as the trio left.

"Yeah. Pretty nice guy. Not what I expected, though. Thought he'd be a bit taller. And snobbier. At least as snobby as that Draco Malfoy." I replied.

"Gareth, I just wanted to make sure you still wanted to go to the dance with me. I see you're getting looks from other, prettier girls, and I don't want to hold you back." She said.

"I haven't been getting looks from prettier girls, because there aren't any."

She blushed at that.

"I've been asked by two other girls, though. Sarah Hamilton and Emily whats-her-name. Turned them down. Why, have you gotten any offers?" I continued.

"I've gotten a few. Turned them down, though. I just wanted to make sure, you know."

"Anne, I'm sure I want to go to the dance with you. In fact, this is probably the surest I've been about anything." I assured her.

She smiled.

"Well, I'll see you there, then." she said, and walked to her next class.


	4. Dances are supposed to be boring

Hogsmeade. I liked the place. Dervish and Banges was the place I visited the most, followed by Scrivenshaft's.

Last year, I had sold a short poem to the clerk of Scrivenshaft's, to read to his wife on Valentine's Day. Got 20 Galleons for it.

Dervish & Banges had an inventory boy that was the son of a friend of the family. A really nice guy. He had actually specially-ordered me a pair of SAS service boots, and an ACOG TA01NSN from America, to use as a monocular, both of which I still used to this day. All for the 20 Galleons I had sold the poem for, even though the ACOG would have cost over 1,000 American Dollars.

I had bought the ACOG for use at home, thinking it would be rendered useless at Hogwarts by the aura that disabled electronics.

Turns out it's not electronic. Uses a Tritium tube as a chevron. Tritium is a lightly irradiated substance, but it's not electronic.

Nearly caught hell for using it at a Quidditch game James dragged me to, but Dumbledore dismissed the punishment. He actually chewed the teachers out for "instilling an environment that encourages anti-muggle prejudice". It was awesome.

Haven't gone to a Quidditch game since, because James refused to take me. So I missed the action at the world cup. It was okay, though. I didn't care for Quidditch that much. Nor any other sport. Watching just felt boring. I'd rather just DO the sport, or not, rather.

The dance was at the Three Broomsticks. I had been there a few times. Nice place. As I headed down High Street, I passed Gladrags. Anne was there, trying on a new dress. I felt guilty seeing her, almost like a groom seeing the bride's dress before the wedding. It looked stunning on her.

It was a long forest green dress, with a slit down the back, to the middle of her back, and held together with light brown string, which could possibly be leather. It complimented her eyes quite nicely, I noticed when she saw me staring. She held up a finger to signify she'd be out in a minute.

As I waited for her, it occurred to me I should probably wear something special to the dance as well. I headed into the shop.

The clerk looked up at me, and back to the changing room.

"She's not out yet, sir." the clerk said.

"I know. I need an outfit, though." I replied.

"Any particular style, sir?" the clerk asked.

That was a tough one. I didn't know too much about fashion. I COULD go with what I wanted, some type of military dressblues-style outfit, but that would most likely draw ire.

"How about that black one?" Anne's voice rang out from behind.

"Ah, very good choice, madam." the clerk said, going to fetch it.

I turned. Anne was still wearing the dress. She smiled again.

"I think you'll look very handsome in it." she said.

"Well, I'm no expert in fashion. I'm gonna have to trust you here. You look beautiful, by the way."

"I tried to have them get the color as close to Olive Drab as they could, and the strings on the back are shoelaces from an American service boot that saw action in '93. I know how much you enjoy military trivia and the like."

I couldn't speak, I was so shocked. I had barely talked to this girl the past 6 years, and she had gone out of her way like that to make me happy. Not even my own mother would have shown concern like that.

"Sir, your suit is ready." the clerk said.

As I put on the suit in the changing room, I thought about this development. Why would Anne have done this? Was she just that considerate? Or was there something more?

I certainly hoped so. I also hoped I could be as considerate in return.

The suit fit me well, no doubt altered through magical means.

As I stepped out of the changing room, Anne shone with happiness.

"It's perfect!" she exclaimed.

The suit was 2 Galleons. I paid for it, giving the clerk a tip of 10 Sickles.

Anne led me by hand to the Three Broomsticks. She was excited, much more excited than any of the other students around us. Quite a few of them stared at us.

The Three Broomsticks was prepared for the arrival of all us Seventh Years. There were streamers, floating blue and green fireballs, a floating chandelier... It's difficult to describe all the surroundings.

Especially since I was paying more attention to the beautiful girl who was dancing with me than the surroundings.

As we danced, she held her body close to mine, gripping me very tightly. She was a light girl (I could probably lift her with one arm), but strong.

I stared into her eyes. They were beautiful, full of happiness. She brought her lips close to mine.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. I instinctively reached for my wand, but it wasn't in my normal pocket. It was in my jacket.

"THE DARK LORD IS COMING!" A man's voice shouted.

As the rest of the students fell to the ground, cowering, the shooter walked into the pub. He was holding a small revolver above his head, having fired at the ceiling. How and why he had gotten it was not an important issue at the moment.

"THE DARK LORD IS COMING!" He repeated. He leveled the gun at the two students still standing. Anne and myself.

"Expelliarmus!" a voice shouted. Snape's voice. Everything seemed to slow down.

As the red jet of light sped toward the man, a yellow flash of flame emerged from the barrel of the gun as he pulled the trigger.

I was pushing Anne out of the way when the bullet hit me in my right arm. My wand arm. It wasn't a direct hit, but it penetrated my skin, going straight through and hitting the wall behind me.

The gun flew out of the shooter's hand, hitting the wall across the room.

"STUPEFY!" a new voice shouted.

Another red jet hit the shooter, knocking him unconscious. As things went dark, a large man limped over and kicked the gun out of the shooter's hand. Anne was yelling my name, it seemed distant, muffled. Definitely the blood loss's effects.

I blacked out.


	5. Moody? Moar liek PMS

I woke up in St. Mungo's. Anne was by my side, as were James, Richard, and Mary. Anne was still wearing her dress, so I couldn't have been out for very long.

"What were you thinking, young man?" The large man.

I sat up in my bed.

"Pardon?" I asked. I took notice of the man's eye patch, with a false eye inserted in it. It stared right through me.

"Or rather, why WEREN'T you thinking? Why didn't you hit the floor when you heard the gunshot? I'm sorry if I seem a bit brash, but my sympathy is not wasted on dunces!" He exclaimed.

"Excuse me, sir, but may I ask who you are?" I asked.

"You may." He said.

There was a long pause as I waited for him to introduce himself. He didn't.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well, what? Aren't you going to ask who I am?" he replied.

"Who are you?"

"Alastor Moody. If you had been paying attention to Dumbledore during his speech, you might have noticed him introducing me as your newest teacher. I teach Defense Against The Dark Arts" He replied.

"Sorry." I apologized.

"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? I love my job!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

"For not listening to Dumbledore." I said.

"Oh, he doesn't fault you for that, and neither do I. Albus admits that his speeches are rather boring." Moody replied, taking a swig from a flask.

"So, you still haven't answered my first question." he continued. "Why didn't you drop to the floor?"

"I don't know." I muttered.

"You don't know much, do you? If you can't answer a simple question like that." Moody sneered.

"Stop insulting him!" Anne interjected.

"Lass, I can insult anyone I want, especially when I have good reason to." Moody growled, swiveling his false eye to stare at Anne.

"Now. Why didn't you drop?" he continued.

"I was trying to reach for my wand." I said.

"Now that's what I wanted to hear." Moody said excitedly. "I saw your hand reaching for it the moment you heard the shot, I doubted you yourself knew what you were doing. You've got the instinct, boy."

"The instinct?" I asked.

"You do, rather than think. You usually hear about it in the muggle armies, where soldiers are trained to have muscle memory. Not a lot of wizards have it. Especially not without intense training." He said, then paused, thinking for a few moments.

"You've been to boot camp, haven't you?" He asked.

"A six-week camp, to help me get in shape." I replied.

Moody grinned at this.

"I could tell. Hogwarts doesn't teach violence of action, to do things without thinking. Only muggles teach that."

"It seems like you know a lot about the muggle military." I said.

"I do. A man in my position should. Fascinating stuff." He replied.

"You serve?" I asked.

"With the muggles? No. However, I was an Auror. Mad-Eye, they called me. They called me one of the best." He said, caught up in nostalgia.

"You'll get plenty of time to converse with the boy in your classroom, Alastor. Wait until he heals up." Dumbledore's voice echoed as he entered the room.

"Professor Dumbledore!" my friends exclaimed.

"Don't you lot have classes to get to?" Dumbledore said, grinning slightly. He looked to Anne. "How many classes have you missed, Ms. Emery? Have you been back to Hogwarts at all?" he asked.

She blushed.

"I've only missed one class, but no, I haven't." she mumbled.

"How long have I been out?" I asked.

"Oh, not long, boy. Just a day." Dumbledore replied. "Your arm still hurt?"

"No sir, the Healers did a great job." I told him.

"Well then, it's time we get back to school." Dumbledore exclaimed.

Dumbledore escorted us all to a train heading back to school.


	6. EXPOSITION

As we rode the train back to Hogwarts, my friends asked me a flurry of questions.

"What's it feel like to be shot?" asked James.

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Anne.

"Gareth's a tough boy, Anne. He's fine." Mary said, punching my shot arm. It didn't hurt. The Healers HAD done an amazing job.

"Who was that guy who shot you?" asked Richard.

I shrugged.

"No clue." I said.

"He was a Death Dealer." Dumbledore said, entering the train car. "And he's been dealt with."

"Any particular reason he decided to crash our party? And why a gun?" I asked.

"As a young man, he was expelled from Hogwarts, and his wand was confiscated and destroyed. As to why he decided to interrupt our dance, he is mentally unstable."

"If he didn't have a wand, why would the Dark Lord want him as a Death Dealer?" I asked.

"I haven't a clue why Voldemort would want him. It's possible he wanted a way to stir up hatred against muggles, using this man as a "muggle" thug." Dumbledore replied.

My friends all cringed at the mention of Voldemort's name. I can't explain why I didn't, a year ago I would have.

"So... Boot camp?" Dumbledore asked, raising his brow quizzically.

"6 weeks, just infantry training. Nothing special. Fired an L85, though."

"You plan to join the military?" he asked.

"Not really." I admitted, shrugging. "My parents thought it would be a good way to get in shape."

"Well, Rudolf always was a fanatic about fitness."

"Did you know my father personally?" I asked.

"A bit. He was Head Boy of Hufflepuff. Had to meet him in meetings and such. Bit of a neurotic lad."

"He was always disappointed he got sorted into Hufflepuff. Came from a long line of Gryffindors." I explained.

Dumbledore smiled.

"He must have been proud of you, then."

"Well, a bit, despite my grades."

"He's more proud than you think."

The train went through a tunnel. Dumbledore's glasses shone slightly in the dark.


	7. Dangerous Duo

As we got back to Hogwarts, a few students came out to greet us. The Weasley twins were at the head of the crowd. Fred and George were nice guys, if a little eccentric.

Loved to prank people. They never caused any real damage, to my knowledge.

Fred bounded up to me, staring at the hole in the arm of my uniform. I had requested it not be fixed, as a sort of battle-scar. A little red badge. The blood was still there, too.

"This the arm?" he asked.

George smacked him on the back of the head.

"'Course it is, you big dummy!"

"How'd it feel, Garry?" Fred asked, rubbing his head.

"It hurt." I replied.

"How much?" Asked George.

"A lot, I don't know, you want me to shoot you, so you can find out?" I jokingly suggested.

"RON! Get out here!" George yelled.

Ron walked out of the castle.

"Holy hell, what happened?" he asked, seeing my arm.

"I got shot." I replied.

"With a gun?" he asked.

"No, with a knife." George said, rolling his eyes.

"Guys, if you don't mind, I've got class." I said, waving them out of my way.

As Anne and I walked into our Defense Against The Dark Arts class, already in process, Moody was giving a speech.

"So, you see, students-"

He stopped, noticing me.

"It seems we have a celebrity in the class!" He exclaimed.

The whole class stared at me. I waved nervously.

"THIS is why we have this class. Self-defense, young ones, is a very important thing. Come here, Mister Jones. Show off your scars."

I walked to the front of the class sheepishly, Anne headed to her seat. Moody pulled up my sleeve, showing off the scar from the bullet.

"Now, Mister Jones here has been shot with a Muggle weapon. There had been a prior shot in the air. Mister Jones and his dance partner, Miss Emery, had not dropped to the floor, as every other student had. That's a lovely dress, by the way, Miss Emery."

Anne blushed from her seat.

"Now, while this lack of expected action may seem foolish, downright stupid, some might say, I was at the event. Mister Jones was instinctively reaching for a weapon. Unfortunately, he didn't have one. But he showed a bravery I have failed to see in most students these days. Mister Jones here was trying to take action, rather than run away like a coward."

He struck his cane on the ground.

"See how he doesn't flinch at that noise? The mark of a trained professional!"

Suddenly, he swung the cane at me. I instinctively raised my arm, and the cane broke against it.

"Incredible!" Moody shouted.

"That hurt, sir." I said, rubbing my arm.

"I'm sure my cane took more damage than your arm, Mister Jones." He laughed.

"May I sit down, sir?" I asked.

"You may, Mister Jones." he replied.

I took my seat next to Anne.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

"I'm fine." I replied.

"NO TALKING IN MY CLASS!" Moody roared, not even looking at us.

Everyone was silent the rest of the class.


	8. Huh Radio What's up with that radio?

As Moody's class let out, I felt the eyes of the rest of the class on me. Staring at my wound. It wasn't quite the manner they had rubbernecked with Harry, but I had an idea of how he felt now.

Speak of the devil, Harry walked over to me. It was lunch hour. Anne waved good-bye as she headed with her friends towards the Great Hall.

"Gareth!" he exclaimed. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Harry, I'm fine." I replied. "How's everything?" I asked.

"Everything's pretty good. Fred and George say they're going to try and enter their names in the Goblet."

"The what now?" I asked.

"The Goblet of Fire, Gareth, for the Triwizard Tournament. Haven't you wondered why the other schools are coming? Didn't you listen to Dumbledore's speech?" he chided me.

"No, and not really." I shrugged.

Harry shook his head.

"How did you last to your seventh year?" he asked.

"Sheer luck. And charm." I told him. At that, I started walking to the Great Hall, Harry following me.

"Speaking of charm, that Emery girl seems mighty attached to you."

I stopped.

"That's a terrible segue, Potter."

"It's true, though." he insisted. "How do you do it?" he asked.

"It's not really a matter of doing anything, Harry. I'm not going to say it's destiny or anything, but I happen to be fond of Anne, as much as she is of me. I don't know why, I can't explain it, other than the fact that she's a very nice girl. You can't really explain things like this, Harry, because there's simply no explanation."

I turned to face him.

"Why are you asking me this, anyways? There a lass you're fond of you want advice with? Sorry, Harry, I can't help you. I don't even know how I earned Anne's attention, not to mention the fact that all girls are different. I wish I could help, Harry, but I can't. You have to find your own way." I finished.

He looked down at his feet, embarrassed.

"It's-" he started to say.

"Not my business. Believe me, I've had crushes before, it hurts to reveal them. Take my advice, and don't tell me who it is. Not until you've got her."

"Harry!" Ron's voice called.

Harry ran to the Great Hall ahead of me.

As I entered the flurry that is lunchtime at Hogwarts, my owl, Hartman, flew in with a package. I had named him after the Gunnery Sergeant in Full Metal Jacket.

He puffed out his chest proudly after dropping the package in front of me. I poked him in the belly.

"Got dangit, soldier! Post hour is Oh-Nine-Hunnert! What is your major malfunction, numbnuts?" I teased, and Hartman nipped my finger.

"Ow! You little bugger!" I exclaimed, recoiling. "Get back to your nest!"

Hartman obeyed.

I looked at the package in front of me. It was from my parents. They rarely sent me anything, too busy working for the Ministry to pay attention to me. But when they did send me things, it was always appreciated. And usually something really cool.

"It your birthday, Garr?" James asked, from behind me. "Or is there some special occasion? Don't your parents usually butt out and leave you to your own devices?"

"Hey, never look a gift dragon in the mouth, right?" Richard chimed in, from my side.

"You never look a dragon in the mouth period, Richard." I replied. "Where's Mary? She always eats with us. Feels wrong opening this without her."

"She's eating with Chef Johnny." James sighed. "Young love is just so sweet, innit?" He sighed sarcastically again, resting his elbow on my head.

I opened the package. It was a small, red radio. I picked it up to examine it.

"Huh. Radio. What's up with this radio?" James asked, taking it from my hand.

"Gimme that back, man!" I exclaimed.

"You gonna listen to your crappy pop music on it?" Richard sneered.

"Dude, Ferryman is just one song! An awesome one, too!" I protested.

James handed the radio back to me, patting me on the back.

"Whatever, man. Take it." he said. "Just don't keep me up at night with it."

"Isn't there an aura that doesn't let electronics work here?" A first-year asked me.

"Yeah, there is. But, radios are run by magic, so I've been told by my parents. Never actually tried using one here, though."

I flipped the power switch. A rather loud rock song started blaring from the thing, echoing in the Great Hall. I think it may have been a Weird Sisters song.

"Never nev-"

I shut the radio off. There were a few laughs, a couple "dammits". One "Hey, I like that song!".

"5 POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" McGonagal shouted, storming over to me.

"Mister Jones, while radios are not banned on this campus, you are NOT allowed to play them at that volume! Especially not during lunch!" She scolded.

"Sorry, Ma'am. I didn't know it would be that loud. It came with headphones, I'll use them." I replied.

"Don't let this happen again, Mister Jones." She said.

"Aye-aye, ma'am." I saluted her.

She walked away, shaking her head, likely muttering to herself about how music these days was horrible.


	9. D'aww I need insulin now

After lunch, I had Arithmancy. It was pretty boring. Nothing much ever happened in that class.

However, it was my last class of the day. I headed to the Gryffindor common room, to do a bit of writing. Particularly a thank-you letter to my parents.

Anne was waiting for me at the Fat Lady's portrait.

"You two are up to no good, I see." the Fat Lady said the second she saw me.

"What?" I asked.

"You know what I'm talking about, boy!"

"I don't! Have you been drinking?" I exclaimed.

"Perhaps." she giggled. "But I'm sober enough to notice that she's been here for an hour, and I've been around long enough to know what that means!"

Anne blushed furiously.

"Lumpkin, Ma'am."

"You had better treat her well, Mister Jones!" The Fat Lady shouted as she swung up, revealing the entrance to the common room. "Just because you're a celebrity now, doesn't give you the right to-"

Her words trailed off as we entered the common room. It was empty, strangely. I had a strange feeling in my gut; not an unpleasant one, I'd just never felt it before.

"You've been waiting for me for an hour?" I asked Anne.

"Not an hour..." Anne mumbled, looking at her feet, embarrassed.

"Anyways." she said, turning to me. "I have some things I need to tell you. But... I don't know how to say them."

She ran into my arms, and hugged me tightly.

"Gareth, you're the first boy who ever made me feel good about myself. I need you to know that."

"Anne..." I started.

She looked up into my eyes, silencing me. She was searching for words that wouldn't come easily.

"Gareth, I've dreamed about this day for a long time. Especially since last year's dance."

"Anne, people are going to be here soon." I stammered.

"Gareth, I love you!" she exclaimed. "I always have. Since first year... I've always just wanted to be with you..."

I didn't think it was possible for her to hold me tighter, but she managed.

"I was going to wait until graduation to tell you, but when you asked me to the dance, I was going to tell you there, but then you got shot... and I realized I couldn't wait any longer. Life happens, and it can take us away at any moment.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks, streaming from her eyes.

"And if something had happened to you, and I wasn't able to tell you how I felt... I just couldn't live with myself."

There wasn't much I could say, other than the truth.

"Anne, I love you, too."


	10. Friends can be really annoying

The next day, it rained. I liked being inside in the rain. The noise was so relaxing.

I found it hard to concentrate on Transfiguration class.

We were changing water into fire. Pretty cool stuff. I imagined turning the rain into fire. It was a horrible, apocalyptic thought, but it was kind of awesome at the same time.

Mine turned into lime jelly a few times, but I eventually got it.

After Transfiguration, I headed outside to get to my next class, Care of Magical Creatures. I had time for a break, but I always get to my classes early.

"Gareth!" Mary ran up from behind me.

"Yes, Mary, what is it?" I asked.

"I heard the news about you and Anne. I just thought I'd congratulate you."

"Where did you hear that?" I asked.

"So it's true! I wasn't sure, the Fat Lady makes up a lot of stories." She giggled.

"What do you want to know, Mary?" I asked, annoyed.

"Is it really love? Or are you just going with the flow?" she asked.

"That's a hell of a question to ask!" I exclaimed. "What business is it of yours?"

"None, but I'd hate to see a friend of mine rush in to something he's not sure of."

"Thanks for the concern, Mary, but I'm pretty sure of this."

Mary bit her lip.

"Okay, Gareth." she muttered.

"What's this about, anyways? You and Johnny having problems?"

She sighed.

"Sort of. I guess I'm just jealous of your loyalty to Anne. Johnny's a bit girl-crazy, since he thinks he's going to get on the Quidditch team."

"Well, that's too bad. Why don't you dump him?"

"I probably will." she sighed again. "I just thought that this one would work out."

"You'll find the right lad eventually, Mary." I consoled her.

"Yeah, but is it worth the heartache?"

"It will be, I promise you."

She smiled weakly and walked to her next class.

"Man, why does everyone come to YOU for advice, Garr?" James said from behind me.

"Because you're a dick." I shot back. James laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." he sighed. "Still, it's nice to be wanted."

"You need a shoulder to cry on, man?" I sneered.

He punched me in the arm. And again.

"No, I just wanna be that shoulder. Maybe I punch yours enough, I can absorb its powers." he laughed.

"So, you and Anne are together? That's nice. You get a kiss yet?" he continued.

"Not gonna answer that one." I replied.

He grinned.

"I bet you have, you sly dog."

"James, it's none of your business."

"Oh! Have you gotten more than a kiss, then?" he laughed, patting me on the back. "Good show, lad."

"No, James. I haven't. And I said it's not your bleedin' business, man!" I raised my voice slightly.

James ruffled my hair.

"It's all right, lad, you can tell me! You can tell your dearest buddy Jay-Jay! It's not like I haven't had my share of the lady-folk."

"James, I'm not gonna tell you!" I yelled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class! Jeez!"

As I walked out into the rain, I opened my umbrella, choosing it over an impervius spell. I was the only one with an umbrella.

Nothing interesting happened in Creatures, save for a few giggles anytime Anne was close to me. Seems the Fat Lady spread news quickly.

It was weird. Last year, no one would give either Anne or myself a second glance. Now, I was high-tier, importance-wise.

Whenever Anne was close, though, everything felt right. She shared my umbrella most of the class.


	11. Not Bankruptcy

Nothing much happened for a while. Although I HAD overheard some news about the Triwizard tournament, apparently Harry was chosen. Apparently, it was some big deal.

Today would prove to be a special DADA lesson, though. I was assured of this by a few students in the class before me. They wouldn't tell me why it would be, though.

Professor Moody seemed giddy when I entered the classroom.

He took a long swig from his flask, slamming it on his desk when he finished.

"STUDENTS!" he roared. "Today, Albus wants you to learn of the 3 Unforgivable Curses! First hand!"

A gasp ran through the class. I didn't know what he was on about. He couldn't be talking about what I thought he was.

"First off, does anybody know the three curses?"

A student raised his hand nervously.

"There's the Cruciatus..."

"Correct! The Cruciatus Curse! Inflicts incredible pain on the victim!" Howled Moody.

Well, hell. Looks like he was.

He summoned a box of spiders from the back of the room.

"Now, should I demonstrate it on these spiders? Or does anyone here have the stones to experience it themselves?" he crooned.

"But it's illegal!" a student cried out.

"That it is, but would you rather experience it for the first time in the battlefield, or in a controlled environment?"

"I'll do it." I said.

"Mister Jones. You just continue to exceed my expectations, don't you? I'm not going to sugar-coat it. It will hurt. It may reduce you to a quivering heap. Even your gunshot wound won't compare. I would be surprised if you lasted 15 seconds."

I stepped to the front of the room. I felt the class's eyes on me.

"CRUCIO!" Moody roared.

White-hot pain ran through my body. No, not my body. My mind. This wasn't something I could just ignore easily, like physical pain. But it was still just pain.

My hands curled tightly, blood was drawn from my nails piercing my flesh. My teeth chattered, adrenaline rushed through my veins.

But I wouldn't give up. I'd last 30 seconds, a minute, however long he could keep casting it. Time slowed down, it felt.

After what felt like ages, I fell to one knee. My hands were bleeding heavily.

"STOP IT!" Anne's voice yelled, distant, muffled; like the night I had been shot.

And then, it stopped. Moody stopped.

No one spoke.

Moody started to clap.

"32 seconds, Mister Jones. Impressive. Very impressive. I need to stop underestimating you."

"What's next?" I asked, breathing heavily.

"Mister Jones, perhaps you should sit down."

"I'm fine, sir."

Moody laughed. "Well, do you know the next curse?"

"The Imperius Curse. Mind-control." I said.

"Correct. Would you like me to use you to demonstrate this one?" he grinned.

"Go ahead."

"IMPERIO!"

My mind blanked. Whited out. A wonderful feeling. I had no worries, no cares.

A voice, an impulse, started to whisper into my mind.

"Hit yourself in the stomach."

I curled my fist.

Wait, why was I doing this? This wasn't a good idea.

"Hit yourself." It was louder this time, stronger, harsher.

My fist raised.

No. I didn't want to do this.

"HIT YOURSELF!"

I smashed my hand against the desk.

"NO!" I screamed.

Moody stared.

"I've never seen anyone resist the Imperius that well. Not even Potter."

He quickly composed himself.

"For the third spell, Mister Jones, I'm going to have to ask you to sit down. It's the Killing Curse."

I headed back to my desk. Everyone stared at me.

"Now, for this demonstration, I have the spiders." Moody said.

He pointed his wand at one.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he shouted.

A green flash of light. The feeling of rushing wind. The spider fell motionless. Dead. Not a mark on it.

"You should all be constantly vigilant, to keep from falling victim to these spells. Our very own Mr. Potter is the only one known to have survived the Killing Curse, and I wouldn't bet on it happening again."

With that, he dismissed the class.


	12. Crazy Old Coot, my Gramps

At Lunch, Harry came up to me.

"I heard about the spectacle in Moody's class today. How did you manage to endure the Cruciatus? And resist the Imperius?" he asked.

Between bites, I replied: "My grandfather taught me."

"Your grandfather?"

"Yeah, he was ex-military. Muggle military. Graduated Hogwarts, married my grandmother, had my father, and went off to serve the muggles in the second Great War."

"But how did that-" he started.

"I'm not finished yet. So, he gets back, eventually my dad grows up, marries my mum, has me. Grandfather wants to make sure I become strong, since he didn't think my father was."

"And?"

"Christ's sakes, Harry, I'm eating! Gimme some time! So, Gramps raises me like I'm in boot. Performs the Cruciatus and Imperius on me a bunch of times. Trains me to resist. Started when I was 5."

"How could he get away with that?" Harry asked, astonished.

"He didn't. Gramps is serving time in Azkaban. Dad turned him in when he found out. Gramps pled guilty, said he knew what he did was wrong, but felt he had to do it to make me strong. Court gave him 20 years, and took away his wand. As they took him away, Gramps told me it was worth it."

"Wow. That's horrible." Harry said.

"It's nothing. I don't harbor any bad feelings towards it. I mean, I agreed to it, you know? He made me do some ridiculous stuff, though. Like piss in the pantry. Got a whippin' for that one."

"You planning on doing something with all this training?" he asked.

"Not really." I said.

"You ever plan to follow in your grandfather's footsteps? Join the army?"

I laughed.

"Me? Nah. I don't think I could ever hack it. I couldn't kill someone if my life depended on it. But, I'll say this: I'd rather join the muggle army than any wizard one. A few highly-trained muggles could whip the crap out of any wizards, including the Dark Lord and Dumbledore as a team."

I saw Draco glare at me from Slytherin's table. He didn't like that much.

"You got a problem, Malfoy?" I asked, grinning.

He averted his gaze.

"What makes you say that?" asked Harry.

"Simple. Guns. A wand is useful for domestic shite, but a gun is where combat tech has hit it's peak. I mean, I can unload half a mag into you before you can even start to perform the Killing Curse. Hell, I could probably punch you out before you finished saying it half-way."

Draco glared at me again.

"You want to take it outside, Malfoy?" I shouted at him. "My fist against your wand?"

He quickly turned back.


	13. LOL DRAMABOMB

Winter came. Mary and Richard went home for the holidays.

After Lunch, I headed to the Common Room to get my supplies for Muggle Studies.

It was quiet, save for a faint... crying?

I headed to the dorm. It got louder. It sounded like James.

As I opened the door to the rooms, I noticed James sitting on his bed. He saw me, and hid something behind his back. His gloves were off. He never took his gloves off.

"James? What are you doing? Don't you have Charms soon?" I asked, carefully.

He sighed.

"You caught me, Garr." he muttered.

As I headed over to sit next to him, I noticed his hand was covered in cuts, some of them aged scars, a few still bleeding. A bloody razor sat on the bed next to him.

"James, how long have you been doing this?" I asked.

"You know, Garr, my dad always taught me to be a leader. A shepard, rather than a sheep. I've let him down." he said.

"What are you talking about, James, you're the leader of our group!" I replied.

"No, Garr, I'm not. You are. At least now you are. Everyone comes to you for advice. They all look up to you. Hell, so do I."

"James, I'm not a-" I started.

"You know all those stories I tell about my dad, all the things he does?" he interrupted.

"Yeah, James, your dad sounds pretty cool." I said.

"They're lies. At least since 5th year."

"What do you mean since 5th year?" I asked.

"My dad is dead. Died in a muggle bar fight over the summer between 4th and 5th year. He tried to break it up, but a guy stabbed him in the neck with a broken bottle. No one helped him. They just watched him bleed out."

"Why didn't you tell us this?"

"How could I, man? The news didn't care. He was a page 3 story. Wasn't even in the wizarding papers. No one cared."

"We would have." I assured him.

"Yeah, sure." he scoffed.

"Anyways, I do this because I feel like I have to punish myself for insulting my dad's memory."

"You don't, Ja-"

"Gareth, I'm no leader, I can't even get the girl I fancy to look at me." he interrupted. "How could I insult dad's memory any more?"

"By doing this." I said.

James started to shake.

"Mary won't even look at me, Garr."

"Mary? Our Mary?" I asked.

"Yeah, our Mary." he muttered. "She always looks to you for advice. She always has."

I patted James on the back.

"All you've gotta do is step up, mate. You don't go emo just because life isn't how you want it to be. Carpe diem, man!"

"That's easy for you to say, man. You've got everything you want now." he spat.

"James, just tell Mary how you feel about her. That's the only way you're gonna even have a chance."

"It's hard, man. It's really hard." he cried.

"I know, James. I know."

"How do you do it, Garr?"

"I didn't. I couldn't. She approached me."

"You asked her to the dance."

"It's just a dance."

James started to compose himself.

"I guess you're right. Will you be a bro and back me up when I ask Mary to the next dance?"

"Sure thing, James."

"You're a good friend, Garr." he said, smiling.

"Only because I'd hate to lose a good friend like you, James."

"You won't tell the others, will you?" he asked, pleading.

"No, because you have to tell them." I replied.

I grabbed my things and walked James to his Charms class.


	14. 13 was not unlucky, no siree

"Gareth, wake up!"

I roused from sleep. James was whispering to me.

"What is it, James?"

"You're talking in your sleep, it's keeping me up." he whispered sharply.

"Sorry, I'll try not to." I said.

"Why don't you just take a sleeping potion, Garr?"

"Because they taste like shite, man!"

"You know what you were saying?" He asked, grinning.

"Tell me."

He grinned.

"Guess."

"My plans to wring your neck?"

"That and Anne's name. Over and over and over." he sneered.

"Yeah, so what?" I asked.

He cocked his head, I couldn't tell if he was confused, or just playing with me. Probably the latter.

"You've really got a thing for this girl, haven't you?"

He shook his head, grinning.

"Will you just let me sleep, James?"

"Yeah, sure. It's 5:45, though. You might as well wake up."

"Then why were you complaining?"

"Because I can." he said triumphantly, puffing his chest out.

"Your hand okay?" I asked.

His smile dropped.

"Low blow, dude. I'm not doing that shite anymore."

"I'm serious, James. I'm really worried about you. By all rights, I should tell somebody. But I'm going to leave it up to you. Get help, man."

"Yeah, I will." he waved his hand, dismissing it. "I'm going to see Pomfrey today."

I got up, got dressed, and headed to the owl ward, the closest I could get to being outside.

I switched the radio to a classical channel, being careful to use the headphones this time.

Beethoven's 9th in the bitter cold is always invigorating.

Hartman swooped in, landing on my shoulder.

He had a letter tied to his leg. It was from my parents. It was a regular written letter, as opposed to a magical speaking one.

"Dear Gareth, you're welcome for the radio, hope you're listening to it regularly. We hope you are feeling okay. Please write back soon. Love, Mum and Dad."

"Gareth, you're up early." Anne. Hartman startled, and flew to his post.

"Anne? What are you doing here?"

"I always get up early." she said, walking towards me. "Is that a letter from your parents?"

"Yeah."

"You write them often?"

"No. Not really."

She was really close now. She was wearing perfume.

"Gareth." She put her hand on my chest.

"Yes, Anne?" I asked.

"Is everything alright?"

I looked at her. I couldn't lie to her, but I couldn't break James's trust.

"No. But I can't talk about it." I said.

"I understand. Although I can't say my life hasn't been great." she said, nuzzling her head against my chest.

"Your heart is beating really fast, Gareth."

"Well, you can guess why that is." I said.

She smiled.

"Because you love me?"

"Ten points to Miss Emery."

She brought her lips to mine. I held her close as we kissed. It was a wonderful moment. Much more magical that anything I had seen at Hogwarts.

My first kiss.

As our lips parted, Anne giggled, and blushed. She pressed her head into my chest again and sighed.

"I can't believe how lucky I am."

I couldn't, either.


	15. Bullet for my enemy

The next week was uneventful for me.

Mary came back to school, despite there being time left in the break. As I went to greet her, she ran crying into my arms.

"Mary, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Johnny and I broke up!" she sobbed.

I looked around, keeping Mary at arm's length, and saw James. He was staring at us, jealous of me.

"Mary, I can't help you with this. I don't have a clue what to say. Why don't you go talk to James?" I said.

She sniffled, confused.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just go talk to James. I think he can help."

She walked over to him, and started to cry on his shoulder.

"It was going to happen anyways, you said" James tried to console her.

"I'll never find the right boy!" Mary sobbed. "Never!"

At that, I walked away. It was a little naive to leave James alone with a grieving girl, but as I had found out, I really didn't know him as well as I thought. I headed outside, to take a stroll. I liked being in the snow. More than being in the rain, anyways. I liked cold.

"Playing matchmaker much, Gareth?" Anne asked, joining me on my walk outside.

"Only when I think it might work out." I replied.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

"Nowhere in particular. Just exercise."

"You want company?" she asked.

"Of course." I replied.

We walked for a while in the snow.

"Gareth, I've been thinking about us, recently." Anne said.

I felt uneasy at this.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I was just thinking. We have complementing interests, talents. Maybe I shouldn't be a teacher." she said.

Well, that was a relief.

"Why would you want to give up being a teacher?" I asked.

"Well, maybe not give it up, but that shouldn't be the only thing I do. I heard you've sold a few stories."

"I sold a poem, that's pretty much it." I replied.

"Well, maybe I can illustrate for you?" she asked, eagerly.

"Yeah, that'd be great!" I replied, almost as eagerly. Not quite, though. I couldn't manage to muster up the energy she seemed to constantly emanate.

As we entered the Quidditch training yard, I noticed the sound of footsteps behind us. Three pairs of feet, making a crunching sound with every step in the packed snow.

I stopped, as did Anne. The footsteps kept coming.

I curled my hands to a ready position, instinctively reaching for my wand, which I kept in a specially-made holster I bought from Dervish and Banges.

"No need for your wand, Jones! As you said!" Malfoy called.

I relaxed. Draco may be a snob, but he wasn't stupid enough to attack me on school grounds. Crabbe and Goyle, maybe, but Draco kept them in line.

I turned, trying to keep a grin off my face. And failing.

"So, you're taking me up on my challenge, Malfoy?" I yelled back.

He stopped. He was about 25 paces from me.

"Care to even the odds?" I asked.

He replied by casting an Obliteration charm on the snow around us. I reached into my pocket.

"What are your terms?" He asked.

"20 paces, Anne will call out Go, and whoever hits the other first, wins. Mind you, you have to hit me with a spell, not just cast one." I replied.

He sneered.

"You think I'm going to trust your girlfriend to be an honest judge?" he taunted.

"More than I trust your girlfriends." I replied, my grin un-hide able now.

Crabbe and Goyle started to grab for their wands. Draco stopped them.

"Any limits?" He asked.

"Stupefy only. Don't think this is a good chance to test out Cruciatus."

Draco stood silent for a moment, considering.

"What's the prize? Pride? Or do you want to risk some money?"

"You've got enough of both, Malfoy, but how's 20 Galleons sound?"

"Deal."

I turned to Anne.

"Would you mind? I really can't trust his cronies." I asked her.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Gareth."

"It isn't, but it'd be a worse one to back down or let his cronies judge."

"Alright..." she said.

Draco and I got into position, my hand still in my pocket, grabbing my trump card.

"GO!" Anne shouted.

"STUPE-" Draco started.

I threw the object in my pocket at him.

"What the hell?" he shouted.

I rushed over to him, and threw him to the ground, kicking him in the back of the knee. I pulled his arm into a police hold, and pinned him to the ground.

"Say Uncle, Draco. Say it."

"Uncle." he said, as quietly as the pain would allow him.

"What? Couldn't hear that, Drake."

"UNCLE" he shouted.

I got off of Draco, and offered him my hand to help him up. He refused it.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" McGonagal shouted, rushing over to us.

"Just proving a point, Ma'am." I said.

"10 points from both Gryffindor AND Slytherin! Unless you have a reason for this."

"Not a good one, Ma'am. Just a bet." I replied.

"Detention for the both of you! Cleaning Snape's dungeon!"

"Understood, Ma'am."

Draco glared at me.

"Ma'am, he attacked me!" he cried.

"Draco, somehow I can't believe that. 5 more points from Slytherin."

"Can I have a few minutes to find something, Ma'am?" I asked.

"Granted. 2 minutes."

I turned to Draco.

"Draco, where's that bullet I threw at you?"

"Bullet? Is that what you threw at me?"

"Yes, Draco, the bullet I got shot with."

"What are you doing with a bullet on campus?" McGonagal asked tersely.

"Please don't confiscate it, Ma'am. It's a bit of a good-luck charm for me." I said, looking around for it.

There it was. I grabbed it from the ground.

"What do you mean a good-luck charm? You were shot with it!" McGonagal asked.

"Yeah, but it brings back good memories." I replied.

"Like when you got shot?" Draco sneered.

"Just because I got shot, doesn't mean the rest of the night wasn't great." I said, looking over at Anne. "I mean, you gotta let some things go, right?"

With that, I headed towards detention.


	16. BEST PUNISHMENT EVER YAY

"What was this bet about, that you needed to fight about it?" Snape asked.

"The fight was the bet. I bet Draco that I could hit him before he could hit me with Stupefy. And I won. Speaking of, I still need to collect my earnings."

"You cheated!" Draco cried out.

"Not really. It was never agreed that I couldn't throw stuff at you, a muggle could do it. But if you don't want to pay, we can work something else out."

"I'll pay. I'd never let it be said that a Malfoy wouldn't pay his debts." he grumbled, reaching into his pocket.

Snape shook his head.

"Well, as punishment, you two are going to clean cauldrons for me. Without magic."

"Got it, sir." I said.

"Draco, you take Longbottom's."

"Sir, it's melted! I can't clean this!" he whined.

"I'll do it, sir." I volunteered.

"I won't have it. After all, you won the bet." Snape replied, sneering at Malfoy.

I couldn't keep a grin off my face, either. This was the best punishment ever.

Draco glared back at me.

"Problem, Draco?" I challenged.

Snape handed us both brushes.

After cleaning the dungeon, I headed to the commonroom.

"Fishnets, ma'am." I told the Fat Lady, and she swung up to let me in.

James and Mary were sitting on the couch, talking, as I entered.

"Hey, Garr" James exclaimed when he saw me.

"Hey." I replied. I looked at the clock. 4:30.

I was tired, my arms hurt from brushing the cauldrons.

"Heard you got in a fight, Gareth." James said.

"Not really. Just a little bet. Got 20 galleons from it, AND I got to wipe the smile off of Draco Malfoy's face." I replied.

"You beating on little kids?" he asked, grinning.

"Draco instigated it."

"He's a little bugger, but you should know better." Mary chimed in.

"Yeah, yeah..." I waved them off. "Move, please. I can't get to my bed I'm so tired."

As they obliged, I collapsed on to the couch.


	17. Good moon out tonight

As I opened my eyes, I noticed Anne sitting on a chair beside the couch, presumably studying. She was relaxed, happy.

"Hey, Anne." I yawned. There was a fire going.

She looked up from her book.

"Hey, Gareth."

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"Oh, just a book. A storybook." she replied.

"What's it about?"

"Zombies. From a muggle perspective."

"That's cool. I like reading those stories." I said. "What's the title?"

"It's called Dead City. It's okay, it seems a little like the author didn't know where he was going until he got there, though."

"Never read it."

"You should check it out."

"Will do."

She put the book down.

"Gareth, you're still going to the Yule Ball, right? The last dance didn't put you off?"

"As long as I get to go with you, I'll go." I replied.

She smiled.

"Of course I'll go with you."

"What time is it?" I asked.

"About 7."

I looked out the window. The moon was shining brightly.

"Hey, Anne, would you accompany me on another walk?" I asked.


	18. Nevermind, it's a bad moon

As Anne and I walked through the forest, we found my favorite clearing, with a nice view of the moon.

We laid down in the grass.

"This is what you wanted to show me, Gareth?" Anne asked.

"Yeah. I've been coming here since 5th year. It's a beautiful spot."

"That it is." she agreed. "Very romantic."

I looked at her. She looked lovely.

"Anne, I-"

KA-CHAK. My hand went to my wand.

"You're a terrible wizard, badmouthing your kind. I'd say you were worse than a mudblood." I didn't know this voice, but it didn't sound like someone I wanted to know.

A man came out of the forest, a Smith and Wesson automatic shining in his hands, a mask covering his face.

"It seems fitting that you'll die by the very weapon you praise so much." he snarled. "Consider it a special treat. I had to go through a lot of trouble to get this."

Anne held back a scream. She knew it was useless, I guess.

"Hey, man. I didn't say-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME." he bellowed. "I believe your exact words were "A group of highly trained muggles could take out Voldemort and Dumbledore, working as a team"?"

"Yeah. Because it's true, given the right circumstances."

"Well, the gun may be the pinnacle of combat technology, as you say..."

BANG. The round ripped into my leg, hopefully missing anything vital. I grabbed my leg to try and

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE." the man commanded. I stopped.

"As I was saying, it may be great, but it lacks finesse."

He grinned.

"But then I guess you don't need too much finesse in combat, do you?"

BANG. This time he shot my left arm. High, almost in the shoulder.

Anne broke out of her shock, and started to move to comfort me.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING, MISS?" the man shouted.

Anne paid no heed to the assailant. She applied pressure to my leg.

The man laughed.

"Isn't that sweet?"

I tried to shove Anne away.

"Anne, I'm going to try and draw my wand to distract him, try to get away from here."

"He'll just shoot you and then shoot me, Gareth. If I'm going to die, I'm going to die with you." she said.

"Correct, young miss." the man sneered.

"Listen, man, just let her go. She hasn't seen your face, she can't ID you. Do what you want to me, just let her go." I pleaded.

He laughed, letting his gun hand drop. I considered pulling my wand, but I knew it would be fruitless.

"No."

He raised the gun again.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Dumbledore himself rushing towards us.

"WHAT ARE YOU-"

BANG.


	19. I don't have the balls to kill Gareth

I woke up in St. Mungo's. Again. By all rights, I shouldn't have. I looked around. It appeared to be the same room as last time. Anne was sleeping in a chair in the corner. It was night. But it couldn't be the same night. I had a catheter.

I tried to sit up. The pain in my chest said no.

"OW!" I grunted.

Anne didn't wake.

I searched for the button to call the nurse. There wasn't one.

A nurse came into the room, though. Right. There was a spell that warned them when patients needed them.

"Mister Jones, I'd like to say it's nice to see you again, but that would be a terrible thing to say in this situation." the nurse said.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"You've been asleep for 4 days. We were honestly unsure if you were going to wake up." the nurse answered, matter-of-factly.

"It's not often a person shot 3 times lives to tell the tale. The last shot missed your heart by less than an inch." she continued.

"What time is it now?"

"It's about 8:30 PM."

"Has she been here the whole time?" I asked, gesturing towards Anne.

"She would have been if we had let her. Shows up at 5 every day." the nurse replied coldly. "Speaking of which, we do need to get her going."

"The guy who shot me, what about him?" I asked. "Did Professor Dumbledore catch him?"

"Shot himself, rather than let himself be taken alive."

"Great..." I muttered.

"You're going to need to stay here for a few more days, which will cut into going back to school. Dumbledore has already arranged for your homework to be brought to you."

"But I-"

"Your arm and leg are fine, but your chest needs some more time to heal. Relax, a few more days, and it'll almost be like you were never shot at all, except for the scars."

"Who was it that shot me, though? Even if he killed himself, the man had to be able to be ID'd, right?" I asked.

"We can't tell you much, but it seems he was a Death Dealer. Now, go back to sleep, you need rest."


	20. Tone down the creepy, Jesus!

The next day, Anne came at her usual time to see me.

"Are you feeling better, Gareth?" she asked me.

"Yes, much better."

"I hate to tell you this, but you missed the Yule Ball while you were out."

"Anne."

"It's fine, Gareth. I'm sure we can have our own dance sometime. I'm sure-"

"Anne. Stop. Please."

She stopped.

"What?"

"Anne, I love you dearly, but you're getting a little too attached to me, a little too clingy. I'm not gonna be around forever, if current events are any indication. It's a little creepy, to be honest."

She stared at me.

"But-"

"Anne. I still love you, don't worry. Just..."

She looked down sadly.

"I just don't want to-"

"I know, Anne. You don't want to lose me. And I don't want to lose you. But a dance doesn't mean anything. It shouldn't be an obsession. It's not like I fell in love with you at the dance."

"What?" she asked, confused. Saddened.

"I think the moment I fell in love with you was right before the dance, in Gladwell's. When I learned what trouble you had gone through to get that dress, just for me, and what confirmed it was after the dance, when I learned that you hadn't gone back to school, that you had stayed with me to make sure I was alright. I mean, a dance is just a dance, Anne. Life is not all about dances."

She smiled weakly.

"Gareth, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Anne. I'm sorry. I was a bit harsh."

"It's okay, Gareth..."

She picked up her books.

"I'll see you at school when you're better. You need time to relax, and I need time to think things over."

She kissed me on the cheek and headed out the door. A few moments later, she popped her head back in.

"By the way, James told me to say hi. He's sorry he couldn't be here, he'll be here tomorrow, though."


End file.
